The Devil's in the Retail
Doing the shopping is ever a
chore,
Pushing the trolley down many
an aisle,
But my latest trip down to
Tesco,
Saw an incident which just
made me smile.
I’d wandered through fresh
meat and groceries,
And was just picking some
bread from the shelf,
When I noticed a miserable
presence:
In short, it was the Devil
himself.
I knew it was him from the
pitchfork,
His goat’s legs, his horns
and the cloak.
Then there was his red face
and his sharp teeth,
And about him there was a
faint smell of smoke.
But there was something in
his demeanour,
I could tell that something
wasn’t quite right.
He looked miserable, all
pasty and drawn.
The demonic presence looked
quite a sight.
Now I’m not a believer in
Hades,
But I couldn’t bear to see
him that way,
So I asked Lucifer of his
troubles,
And this is what he sadly had
to say.
“I’ve got a narrowing job description,
Forces of Darkness are taking a cut-back,
We’re out-sourcing Temptation Services,
And minor devils are facing the sack.
And the price of gas goes ever upward,
We can’t afford to run the fires all night.
The Tormentors have asked for higher pay,
And Hell’s budget has got very tight.”
Then he swished his forked
tail around for a bit,
His visage looked dark, and
of Death,
He had a bad case of
halitosis,
And he could have stopped a
horse with his breath.
“You see there’s a lack of believers,
No-one these days gives much of a sod.
That’s meant re-structuring of the heavens,
And down-sizing imposed by the Lord God.
The Book of Revelation’s been revised,
Reduced to some lifestyle hints and tips,
The number of The Beast is one-one-one,
Gone are the Horsemen Of The Apocalypse.
Then there’s all of these Health & Safety rules,
And the Human Rights of the bad sinners.
We’re not allowed to keep them all starving –
That’s why I’m shopping for ready dinners.
Terrible reports on Trip Advisor
Were the straw that broke the camel’s back.
We’ve had to close the burning lake of fire,
And Beelzebub’s been given the sack.”
Old Harry cut a figure so
forlorn,
He was far from a presager of
doom,
The smoke no longer swirled
about him
And his features showed up
clearly his gloom.
He said he couldn’t stop
chatting longer –
If he’s late then his dog
Cerberus yelps.
So I wished The Evil One
“best of luck” –
Well, they say that “Every
Little Helps”.
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